Pitch Black
by Morte
Summary: Chris Jericho is stranded on a deserted world with a rag-tag band of people. Three suns keep the world in permanent day-light. But when an eclipse turns the world black, the horror and dying starts. (Occasional Strong Language)


Pitch Black

Written By Morte

Note: This is a WWF Parody of the movie Pitch Black, it's an awesome story and I wanted to do MY version of it! The story is pretty much the same as the movie so far but I'll be different soon, there's gonna be lots of Stephanie bashing and a gruesome death for her! –First Fic- Be nice ^_^;;

Prologue 

_. Austin's POV ._

They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep.  

All but the primitive side.  The animal side.

No wonder I'm still awake.

Transporting me with civilians.  50 or so of them.

They put me here with these god seeking fools, merchants and civilians...

And then there's my real problem:  Hunter Hurst Helmsley the bounty hunter, the green-eyed devil.  Planning on taking me back to the Desert Prison of Gaia.  

Only this time he picked a ghost lane.

There's a long time between stops.  A long for something to go wrong...

----------

The cargo ship glided peacefully throughout deep space, headed towards its unsuspecting final destination.

The flashing lights and siren's awoke Chris Jericho from his cryo-sleep; he opened his eyes groggily and looked around. He blinked, trying to regain his mind and remember where he was. The ship was in emergency mode; the three cryo-lockers for the main crew of the cargo-ship turned off, waking the Captain and the Docking Pilot.

His eyes focused and relief washed over him as he looked across from him to see the captain slowly wake, then all too suddenly particles of glass ripped through the outside hull and into the captain's cryo-locker; splattering blood everywhere.

Fear swept through Chris. He quickly reached up to the red-handle inside the locker, pulling it as hard as he could. 

The glass-case around his cryo-locker opened, allowing Chris to tumbled forward, right onto the ground. His legs weren't working quiet right yet, and he felt incredibly dizzy. Not to mention he was slightly sick from watching the Captain's chest being ripped apart.

A body fell on top of Chris's back, but forced itself up and away.

"Why'd I fall on you?!" Lita, Navigation Officer of the ship, asked in a frantic voice.

"He's dead!" Chris replied. "Captain's _dead_. ... I was looking right at him!"

"Gravity shouldn't be kicking in for at least another 23 weeks! Why did I fall out of the cryo-locker?"

"Didn't you hear what I said? He's dead!"

She looked over towards the shredded captain and shrieked, then returning to the matter at hand she quickly pulled herself together.

"He's dead, we can't do anything. Go down to the pilot's room, I'll instruct you on the COM."

Chris quickly agreed and rushed down the stairs, past the many cryo lockers' containing passengers. He pressed a few buttons at the control panel, trying to focus on the job of saving his own ass.

He quickly pulled on a headset, controlling his panic as adrenaline pumped acid through his veins.

"Dropping 20 MB per minute," Chris recited, looking around the different screens, flipping a few more switches. "... We're... haemorrhaging air! Oh shit! ... Something took a fuckin' swipe at us!"

Lita's voice pounded in Chris's ears from the headset he wore. "Just tell me we're in the shipping lane! Tell me you see all those stars... Jericho? ... Jericho?!"

Chris blinked, looking in the monitor. No bright stars. No void of darkness. Only one giant, red planet getting larger and larger. They were headed straight for it.

"Oh shit..." Chris mumbled through his chapped lips. "Lita..."

"I see it!" She yelled through the headset. "Try to drop some weight! You've been trained for this right?"

No reply from Chris.

He pushed the buttons frantically and the merchant passenger's cargo flew out of the ship, a few buttons later and they were down to just the passengers.

The ship was dropping altitude fast. Too fast. And Chris knew he had to straighten the ship out or... they'd have an unpleasant meeting with the ground in a few minutes.

"Planet looks survivable. Oxygen, no major water bodies, land terrain stable..." Lita's voice filled Chris's headset.

Chris pulled on handles, opening break-shutters on the outside hull, catching wind, forcing the rusty cargo-ship to slow some of its speed.

But still, the ship wasn't levelling out.

Sinking his teeth into his lower lip, Chris put his hand over the lever that would kill 50 lives to save their two.

Chris looked with wide eyes at the screen in front of him. 

_"Center of Gravity too far aft. Recommended purging cabins now."_ the screen read.

"Jericho? Jericho are you there?"

"There's only one way to straighten the ship out!"

"What...Don't you dare pull that goddamn handle!"

The doors in front of him closed, sealing the cabin's from the rest of the ship.

_"Purge all?"_ The screen read

"Chris? What the fuck did you do? Don't you dare pull that handle!"

"We'll all die if I don't!"

Chris moved his hand away from the red handle that would send 50 people to their deaths with one light pull. 

Chris breathed, staring at the handle, going over the consequences in his head.

With the press of a few buttons the door separating the passenger's opened and their cryo-lockers began to open.

Hunter Hurst Helmsley reached the red-handle in his private cryo-locker, pulling it. He fell forward, onto his knees in the dark room. And slowly stood up.

Lita ran towards Chris and joined him at the control panel, she could see the planet closer now, a huge orange sphere.

Chris swallowed, glaring at the red handle. He couldn't drop them now they were out.

"70 seconds, Jericho. You've still got 70 seconds to level this beast out," Lita said sternly.

"There's no more load except the passengers."

"Then try to get the nose up. You're an ex-pilot right?"

Chris screamed to himself, turning to frantically look for something else to do. Something else to bring the nose down. He slammed his hands down on a jarred button. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

The ship shook, its speed slowing down greatly as more break-shutters opened. 

That was it. All Chris could do. 

He breathed, looking over the screens, watching the ship level slightly, but they were still going down in a free-for-all.

Hunter looked across the dark, red light lit cabin. 

Thank god, Steve Austin was still in his prison-issue cryo-locker. Shut tightly and securely. The glass labelled "Lock-Out protocol in effect. Absolutely no early release."

Hunter straightened his trench coat and looked around. Other passengers were beginning to leave their cryo-lockers themselves.

Then a tremor that threw Hunter from his feet rippled through the ship.

Lita sat in the chair at the control panel as the ripple hit. She was strapped into her chair, but that didn't help. The chair ripped from the posts in the floor, throwing her across the room.

Chris covered his head a second before the ship hit ground. All he could do was sit there until the ship stopped its skipping over the dirt and settled. 

It was a long wait when adrenaline was pumping acid through your heart and your breath wasn't flowing any further then the top of your throat.


End file.
